Amon, The lowest tier disciple in the Insanity Sect

So here I am, tied up like a side character in a bad adventure story. The bandits took my scroll, and now I'm left with nothing but a hair clip, a muffin-related embarrassment, and a serious lack of good ideas.

"Alright, Amon," I muttered to myself, "You've got this. A hair clip and a muffin. How hard could escaping be?"

I fiddled with the clip, working as quietly as I could. The bandits were all in another room, probably celebrating their 'victory' big mistake. They clearly didn't think I'd be able to escape because, well, they thought I was useless. Which was probably true, but hey, even the most useless people can stumble upon a miracle.

Creak.

"....."

"The clip broke?"

........

Its midnight now, the cold stone floor biting into my back, and the mosquitoes were having a field day with me. This was definitely not how I imagined spending my evening.

Just when I thought things couldn't get worse, I heard footsteps.

I froze, heart thumping in my chest.

In the dim moonlight coming from a vent high above, I saw a figure approaching. Who in their right mind would come to this mess of a place at this hour?

They stopped right in front of my cell. I could barely make out their features, just a shadow of someone... A woman?